


(7) Rules

by Sarcasticles



Series: (7) Series [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Non-Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-05-25 16:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcasticles/pseuds/Sarcasticles
Summary: There was no rulebook on how to be a good slave, it was just something Koala had to figure out on her own.





	1. The Golden Rule

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the fourth of a planned seven stories looking into the Celestial Dragons/slave trade of One Piece. Like the others it's cross-posted on ff.net under the same name, but expect some major revisions and additions to that version of the story. The previous stories are not required reading to understand this one, but sharp-eyed readers will notice some overlap in characters connecting them as part of the same universe. One is even named in this chapter.
> 
> Lastly, while I try to keep gratuitous violence to a minimum and I feel the story stays well within the T rating, things do get fairly dark. Consider yourselves warned.

Koala was in a cage.

It was a large cage, and she wasn't the only one trapped. All together there were eight women plus herself. Koala was by far the youngest, the rest looking to be at least her mother's age. They all huddled together, some crying softly, while Koala sat back in a corner as far away from the rest as she could. She was confused, scared, and wanted her parents. But her parents were nowhere to be seen. It was just her, the other prisoners, and the Strangers.

Outside her cage was a line of men strung together like a group of horses and a second, smaller cage. Koala had no idea who they were or why they were tied up. Now that the Strangers had left, they seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. They did so quietly. No one wanted the Strangers to return.

A violent cough erupted from the second cage. It held only one person, a little boy, the youngest of them all. He had been tied up with the men once, but the moment he had begun sniffling the Strangers had pulled him out of the line and stuffed him away in a box so small he could hardly move. That was two days ago, right after they had landed on the strange island full of bubbles.

" _Slavers_ ," one of the women wept bitterly. "How could this have happened to me?"

"Hush now," another said quietly. Amazingly, the kind-looking woman with brown hair and green eyes seemed calm. "My husband's a marine. He'll come looking. We won't be sold."

She said it with such confidence that Koala believed her, but the other woman scoffed. "You said that  _weeks_ ago. We've gone two islands since then. Face it, we're at the mercy of whoever buys us."

The brown haired woman didn't argue, but set her face in a way that reminded Koala of her mother at her most stubborn.

"Aha!" one of the men exclaimed softly. Koala turned to see the man at the end of the line step away from the others. He had somehow managed to free himself and was grinning madly.

"Well, hurry it up!" another said. "Get the rest of us!"

The free man's smile faded. He looked up and down the line, then to both cages. "I-I can't. There's no time, those bastards'll be back any minute—"

"Then we'll rush 'em! Just get us out of here!"

"I'm sorry." The man backed away slowly, his face stricken. "I-I'll get help, I swear. I just…I just have to look out for myself first. You'd do the same."

He ran away and didn't look back. Koala pressed her face against the bars. She didn't understand what had just happened or why all the adults were muttering amongst themselves, but she had to believe that help was coming soon and that her nightmare would be over. For weeks now she had been in a prisoner, most of that time chained in a ship. Now they were on dry land again, secluded in a large, empty building and only allowed to exit the cage twice a day to use the bathroom.

"You're being very brave."

Koala turned to see the woman with a marine husband smiling at her gently. "Thank you," she said in her most polite voice. "Are the marines really coming?"

"Of course. Jackson…Jackson would chase me to the ends of the earth," she said softly, but her voice was strained. "I'm Iris. May I ask your name?"

"I'm Koala."

"Koala," she repeated, committing the name to memory. "It's a pleasure to meet you, although I wish it had been under different circumstan—"

"WHAT'S THIS?!"

Koala jumped as two of the Strangers returned, dragging the man who had escaped. His eye was closed shut and starting to swell, and blood trickled out of his nose. Koala tried to back away from the bars, but the other women blocked her way. Iris wrapped her arms protectively around her and stared stone-faced at the Strangers.

The prisoners went deathly silent, and one of the Strangers shook his head in disapproval. "Naughty, naughty slaves! You should know better than to run off into the dark. You might get lost."

As if he were rehearsing his lines for a play, the other said, "Ya know, boss, there's one in every group. And the rest think it's best to keep their traps shut. I don't get it."

"You're ab- _so-_ lutely correct. It's time these slaves learn Lesson Number One!" the Stranger dropped the prisoner onto the ground and pulled out a pistol out of his coat. The prisoner cringed, but instead of shooting the escapee the Stranger whipped around and faced the small cage holding the sick boy.

The boy didn't even have time to scream before the concussive report of the gun rang through the building. The force of the shot sent the boy backwards against the bars of the cage, and he slid into a limp heap.

"You bastard! He was a kid!"

"Who do you think is worth more, a sick runt or an able-bodied laborer?" the Stranger asked coldly, kicking the escapee in the ribs. "Put this one back with the others."

The second Stranger rushed to do as he was told, and the man with the gun looked the group over. "Rule Number One: No escape attempts. We know every trick in the book. If anyone else tries the girl'll meet the same end. I'm sure none of you wants the death of two children on your consciences." The Stranger gave each and every one of them a long, hard look. Finally his gaze settled on Koala, and he sneered. "And for God's sake, someone shut that brat up! It's annoying!"

It was only then Koala realized she was crying. She had never seen anyone get shot before, and the little boy's blood was beginning to pool on the ground. It was obvious he was dead; Koala could see the hole in his head. She could see his brains. And the blood, oh the blood,  _everywhere_ … _spreading_ …she could see it even when she squeezed her eyes shut. Koala felt sick and couldn't stop, no matter what the Strangers said. She couldn't stop crying and they were going to shoot her, too, and she'd never see her mom again…

Strong arms enveloped her. Koala turned and grabbed Iris with all her strength. Burying her head in the older woman's chest, Koala muffled her screams. She didn't want to die. She would do whatever they said if she could see her mother again. 

Anything less than perfect obedience was unacceptable. That was the first, greatest, and most painful of the lessons Koala would learn, and it was one she would never forget for the rest of her life.


	2. Smile

"What's going to happen to us?"

Iris shook her head slightly, looking straight ahead. They had been taken from the empty warehouse to the auction and were now huddled in the back room, surrounded on all sides by other people just as confused, scared, and angry as they were. Some Koala recognized from the long journey from home, but there was a constant ebb and flow of humanity as slaves were sold and new blood brought in to replace them.

The thought of being sold was terrifying, but the thought of being separated from Iris was worse. The older woman made Koala feel safe. She was the  _only_ person who made her feel safe.

"Looky here, fresh blood," the thickset woman sitting next to them said. She scratched her chin pensively, apparently unconcerned by the fetters around her ankles, and Koala noted her hands were covered in fine, white scars. "Just in time for the sale."

"What can you tell us?" Iris asked quietly. "What do we need to know?"

The woman snorted. "That all depends on where you get sold. Different strokes for different folks, right? The general rule is to try and stay invisible. Go with the flow, and there's less chance someone'll wreck your face."

"That's your advice? Don't get in trouble?" Iris asked incredulously.

"No, I said it's best not to be seen at all." The woman smirked as she looked Iris up and down. "That shouldn't be too much of a problem for you, you're definitely not pretty enough for the Dragons. The kid might have problems, though. Some of those nobles like 'em little, if you know what I mean."

"That's disgusting," Iris said weakly.

"That's the truth," the woman retorted, settling back on the bench. "The only way to keep it from happening is to make her unappealing to the buyer."

Koala did not like where this conversation was going. Iris looked down at her desperately. "How?"

The woman told her, and Koala grew more and more afraid. In the end, Iris didn't have the strength to do it herself. Instead she held Koala's arms behind her back, and the other slave did it for her.

When the auctioneer came back, he was highly displeased. "What happened to her face?!"

Resisting the urge to touch her split lip, Koala looked at the ground. "I fell."

"Liar! Who did this? No one wants to buy damaged goods!"

"It's true, I saw the clumsy chit myself," the woman drawled. She leaned backward, hiding her scarred hands behind her head so the auctioneer couldn't see where Koala's tooth had cut into her knuckle. "Managed to whack herself right in the face, she did."

The auctioneer left in a huff, muttering about useless slaves and profit margins. As soon as he was out of sight Iris cupped Koala's face in her hands, gently dabbing away the blood. Koala let her eyes flutter closed, focusing on how good her cool fingers felt against her flushed cheeks. Iris's hands were smooth, nothing like the calloused, workman's hands of her mother. The only bit of roughness at all was a bit of twine Iris tied around her finger to replace her wedding band, which had been stolen along with all the other valuables by the Strangers. 

"I'm so sorry," Iris said so quietly that Koala almost didn't hear. "I'm sorry I don't know how to protect you."

"You'll want to work on your poker faces, too," the woman who had hit Koala added conversationally. "You can't be going off all in a tizzy just because the kid got her gob smacked. The nobles don't like it when you get weepy."

Iris glared at the woman, her eyes burning like green fire. "What do you expect me to do, sit here smiling like a perfect little doll and pretend nothing's happened? She is a  _child_. What else can I do except give her a little bit of comfort while I still can?"

"It's what the nobles'll want from you, so you might as well start practicing now. Like this," the woman said. She smiled, her mouth full of black and broken teeth that made Koala recoil in disgust and horror.

The grin only widened. "Trust me, sweetheart, you won't be helping no one if you're dead. You're a slave now and that's all there is to it. No amount of honeyed words is going to make that bit of truth any less bitter. So buck up and put your game face on, 'cause a bloody lip's got nothing on the hell you're going to next."

* * *

Mariejois was terrifying. Koala and the other women who had been sold with her were all led down a flight of stairs to a dark room that reminded her of a dungeon. Somehow she had managed to be sold with Iris, but even that small mercy meant nothing the moment she was ripped from the older woman's arms and marched to the Holy City like lambs to the slaughter. Never had Koala felt so alone. Never had she felt so afraid.

They were lined up by height, and since Koala was by far the youngest of the group that meant she was put first in line. She began to tremble violently, her teeth knocking together with the force of her fear while beads of cold sweat formed at her temples. An outsider might think she had caught a sudden chill, but the room was oppressively hot, with a massive furnace dominating the back of the room.

Once they had all shuffled in the heavy door swung shut, and the click of the deadbolt locking echoed ominously through the room. There was no way out, no escape.

"Ah, women this time." Koala flinched at the soft, menacing voice. A skinny man emerged out of the shadows, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Welcome to your Marking."

No one dared to say a word, and that seemed to please him. "You all are now property to the great and noble Saint Deimos. You should feel honored. Few get the opportunity to serve such a magnificent man."

With one skeletal finger, he gestured for Koala to come forward. It took all of her courage to do so. and when she was close enough he grabbed her chin roughly, examining her from every angle. Tears began to leak out of the corners of her eyes as he tutted his disapproval.

"The sign of a troublemaker," he noted, pressing a finger against her swollen lip. "We don't stand for disobedience here, slave."

"N-no sir," Koala stammered.

He boxed her ears, eliciting a yelp of pain. "You will speak when spoken to. Slaves, like children, are to be seen and not heard." Koala opened her mouth to agree, before promptly shutting it again. The thin man nodded his approval.

"Ah, even the dumbest of animals can learn new tricks. Now smile."

"Smile?"

The remark earned her another smack. "Don't try my patience! You should be  _happy_ to be here. It is a  _delight_ for you to preform your tasks each day. A slave who does not smile indicates a slave who is unhappy, and there are no unhappy slaves here! Am I clear?"

Koala froze, unsure of what she was supposed to do. From the corner of her eye she could see Iris's look of horror as the man's face twisted into a silent snarl. He grasped the base of her neck with one bony hand, fingers searching for a only moment before they found what they were looking for. Koala's knees gave out from under her as he  _pinched_ the sensitive bundle of nerves hard enough to make her cry out in pain.

"I asked you a question, slave," he asked, his voice soft and dangerous. " _Am I clear_?"

"Y-yes sir!" Koala gasped. "I understand."

He released her at once, smirking. "Good. Now take off your shirt."

She hesitated for only a moment before blind obedience drove her to do as she was told. In the back of her mind Koala could hear the other women mutter amongst themselves, but her focus was on the man standing in front of her. Desperately Koala tried to cover her chest. She was young enough that her sense of modesty hadn't fully developed, but she knew girls were supposed to always keep their shirts on, especially when there were boys around.

"Lean forward," the man said in a sickly sweet voice that made Koala's stomach turn. "And don't forget to smile."

Then he reached into the furnace and grabbed a white-hot poker. Koala's eyes widened as she realized that something very bad was going to happen. "No. No, please, don't. I'll be good,  _please_ …"

"Slaves should be seen and not heard. Make sure she doesn't move."

Rough arms held her down, and Koala whimpered. " _Please_ …"

" _Smile_."

Weakly, Koala forced her facial muscles into a bastardization of a grin. Maybe if she did what the man said it wouldn't hurt so bad. Maybe if she was good she could go home and see her mother again. Maybe if she could pretend hard enough that she wasn't terrified she would wake up from her nightmare.

"Perfection."

Then he pressed the white-hot metal against her back. Pain exploded through Koala's body, and she was unable to hold back a scream. The sickly smell of burnt flesh filled the air, but Koala didn't care. Her back was on fire. Her back was on fire, and it hurt so bad she was sure she was going to die.

The last thing she remembered before falling into blissful unconsciousness was the man's insistent order. She was being punished for not being happy, and if this was what punishment was like she never,  _ever_  wanted to experience it again.

So as the blackness ate at the edges on her vision, Koala smiled.


	3. A Harsh Realization

In all her time as a slave Koala never saw the topside of the conveyor belt used by the Celestial Dragons. As soon as she recovered from her branding she was thrust deep underground to a massive room she thought at the time was an enormous basement filled with a circuit of man-powered machinery. Later she would learn the terrible truth: The underground tunnels existed all throughout Mariejois, the belts and treks forming a moving sidewalk to save the Celestial Dragons the effort of moving under their own power. 

The travelator was powered by strong men capable of pulling hundreds of pounds of weight in an eternal circle, but the machinery itself was maintained by children, whose small, quick hands were able to make the necessary repairs with greater ease than a grown adult. Koala spent her days squeezed into tiny and oftentimes dangerous spaces cleaning, oiling, and fixing the giant conveyor belt under the watchful eye of a slave with only one hand - the other lost in an accident years ago.

It was dark in the basement, filled with the industrial noise of gears and groaning metal. The air was dead and hot, and there was never enough to eat or drink. Twice Koala witnessed a laborer collapse from exhaustion, unable to rise even while being beaten by foremen with whips. Those who could not work had no value, and a valueless slave soon became a dead slave. Remembering the punishment of her branding, Koala soon learned how to clean blood and gore off of the ground with a smile on her face. The piteous moans of slaves begging for death would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Whatever fate the scarred woman saved her from, Koala couldn't imagine it being worse than what she was experiencing now.

The worst part was being separated from Iris. Her master Saint Deimos had dozens upon dozens of slaves that worked all over his massive estate.The basement had no use for a full-grown woman, and without any special skills to set her apart from other laborers Iris had been sent to the kitchens as a scullery maid. 

Even if Koala wanted to crying was not allowed, not even in the relative privacy of the barracks where she slept. The foremen had spies among the slaves, men and children who were more than happy to trade information for small comforts. There was no one Koala could go to, no one to bandage her blistered feet after endless hours of hard labor, and no one to explain the rules.

Time passed. It was impossible to tell how much with no sun to measure the passing of days. Koala's hands and feet grew tough and calloused, only ever bleeding on the longest workdays, while he clothes grew increasingly ragged. Koala was a quick study, desperate to please the men who seemed to hate her for the crime of being small. 

Koala was miserable and constantly afraid, but life fell into a new routine. A new normal where it was better to cut her hair with a sharp piece of metal than to have it grow too long and get caught up in the machinery, where an irritated foreman was more dangerous than sticking an arm between two gears taller than a grown adult, where being constantly hungry was the least of her worries and it was okay to be able to count her ribs because at least she was still alive.

Then came the accident, and Koala's new normal shattered.

* * *

 

Koala was on the far side of the basement when she heard a piercing scream that made her insides turn cold. She had gotten used to the low, continuous groans of the men running the conveyor belt until the point she scarcely noticed them. The scream was different. It was too loud, too full of life to have come from the half-dead laborers. They  _welcomed_ death when it came. This scream was one of horror and helplessness, and more importantly was followed by the foremen running in a dead sprint to answer it. 

One such foreman grabbed Koala by the nape of her neck as he passed, hissing, "Don't just stand there, brat!"

It took Koala several seconds to register that the command was not accompanied by a threat, and that frightened her more than anything else. She followed the foremen as quickly as her feet could carry her to the source of the ululating scream. They gathered with a growing number of foremen and slaves under one of the tracks that moved the conveyor belt. Squinting through the darkness Koala could barely make out the outline of a child with his arm trapped between the belt and the moving ceiling. 

"What happened here?" the foreman yelled.

"Kid was working maintenance when we got word of a Dragon coming," another said. "We couldn't very well tell 'em to wait ten bloody minutes until we was done, could we? Idiot didn't get out in time, but he managed to push the emergency stop. We can't keep pushing until it's reset."

"How long do we have till the Dragons come?"

"They're already waiting. Heads is going to roll." 

The foreman swore before grabbing Koala by the front of her shirt. "I need you to get up there and rest the emergency stop.  _Now._ "

It was a task Koala had done dozens of times before, but this time she hesitated. "But...but..."

The foreman lifted Koala up by the front of her shirt and shouted, "But nothing! You'll do as I say or we're all dead! Now _go!_ "

Koala knew better than to refuse an order given by a free man. Nimbly she scrambled up the scaffolding to where the boy had trapped his arm. When he saw Koala his eyes widened. "Please help me," he begged between gasps of air. "I-I'm stuck. Please, I need help."

For a moment Koala was frozen in place. The boy's arm was trapped up to the shoulder, and blood dripped out from beneath the conveyor belt. His face was deathly pale, his voice weak. 

There was nothing Koala could do to help him.

"I need to reset the stop," Koala said timorously. "Then I'll get help. I...I promise."

"Please, no," the boy said, tears streaking down his face. "They'll crush me. I-I heard the Dragons is here, they won't stop to...to..."

The strain was too much. The boy's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell unconscious. Fear gripped Koala, fingers of terror twisting her stomach until she thought she would puke. Somewhere below her she could hear the foremen shouting. She was taking too long, and they were getting angry. 

Slowly she inched around the boy's prone body, desperately trying not to see the blood dripping slowly down his arm. There was little space to work with, no adult would be able to do what Koala was being asked to do. 

The boy couldn't be much older than she was. Koala squeezed her eyes closed and reached for the emergency stop switch. She could just barely reach it with both hands, and it took nearly all of her strength to turn off, releasing the break that would enable the laborers to move the conveyor belt along the track. The noise of the gears falling back into place echoed through the cavernous walls of the basement.

"Start pushing, now!" the foreman exclaimed. 

Koala's eyes snapped open as the track lurched forward. She barely had time to scramble down the scaffolding. She yelled for the men to stop. The boy was still stuck, he still needed help...

No one heard her over the horrified scream, and by the time she reached the ground it was too late. Silence dominated the basement, only broken when the foreman cuffed her upside the head. 

"Next time you'll do as your're told  _when_ you're told," he said coldly. "Now get back to work and pray that the Celestial Dragons are in a forgiving mood."

* * *

"Line up, you miserable rats!" It was the end of another day's work, and without speaking a word the roomful of slaves stopped their tasks and formed an orderly line.

Koala's stomach grumbled. She hadn't eaten anything all day and had been denied food the day before as punishment for not obeying fast enough. Koala knew better to argue, and she was especially determined not to be noticed. After the death of the boy she was certain that the foremen were nothing more than monsters wearing the skin of a human being. It took all of her courage not to shake at the sight of them. The less attention she brought to herself the better, and besides, since being captured Koala had grown used to the feeling of hunger.

True as that may be, it was little consolation when her stomach felt as if it were trying to eat itself.

A trio of slaves from the kitchen walked down the line, dishing out their supper. Koala strained to see who was on duty. There was only ever one pot to go around, and sometimes by the time they reached her there was none left. She let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Iris's familiar face. She always made sure Koala was fed.

"This is it?" one of the slaves said, looking down at his bowl in disgust.

"I've got to make sure everyone gets their share," Iris said. She stared imperiously at the slave, but the man only sneered.

"Let 'em starve! Who cares if the brats don't get none? We're bigger 'n work harder! This pittance wouldn't satisfy a mouse!"

A teenage boy next to Koala bristled. "You ain't done nothin' but take credit for other people's work! Let the lady do her job, ya greedy pig!"

"You want some?!" the man shouted. "Well come 'n get it!"

Before the foremen could intervene, the man grabbed the cast-iron pot and threw it down the line. Those who had not yet been fed roared in fury as it crashed against the floor, gruel splattering in all directions.

The teenage boy rushed to the man and punched him in the face, and from there the brawl went out of control. Koala was quickly shoved to the ground, and she tried to protect herself from the mob as she crawled towards the protection of the machinery.

An errant kick caught her on the cheekbone, and she fell again. White spots danced on her vision, and it was all Koala could do to curl up into a ball as bodies flung around her, until strong arms picked her up by her armpits. Koala screamed and thrashed against the hold, but they only gripped her tighter.

"It's me." Iris's voice was calm and strong as she carried Koala to safety. Warm fingers brushed the hair out of her eyes, and Iris let out a hiss when she saw the damage.

"I-I'm okay," Koala sniffed, though she felt nothing of the sort. Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes as she clung to Iris as hard as she could. But she remembered to smile. Not smiling wasn't allowed.

"Of course you are," Iris said quietly, voice barely audible over the chaos. "My brave, strong girl."

"I wish I could stay with you all the time," Koala whispered. She looked down, embarrassed. "I know I can't, b-but I wish I could."

The older woman did not respond, but her eyebrows drew together and she rubbed the piece of twine she wore in place of her stolen wedding band with her thumb.

Sudden emotion made Koala's throat tighten, and the tears fell harder. Koala buried her head in the older woman's chest and cried, muffling her wails so no one else could hear.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" Iris said worriedly. "Are you hurt? Did they do something to you?"

Koala shook her head and with a sharp, halting voice said everything that had happened. The words came out all in a jumble as she told Iris about the boy who had been killed, how she had been punished for trying to help him, and the terrible things she had seen since being sold. It was impossible to say how much Iris understood of her disjointed tale, but the longer Koala cried the more grave her face became, and when she heard how the boy died a tear of her own escaped from her brilliant green eyes.

By the time Koala was done the fight had almost finished and her face throbbed from where she had been kicked. "W-when's your h-husband coming?" she asked thickly. "When are the m-marines going to save us?"

A gunshot went off as the foremen tried to retain order, and Iris's head bowed low as she twisted string on her left index finger. "Jackson…he's not coming."

"But you said…"

"I know what I said!" Koala flinched at the sudden outburst, and a look of pure heartbreak flashed across Iris's face and her eyes shone bright with unshed tears. "Koala, baby, no one's coming. We're all alone."


	4. Wolves Watching Over Sheep

A few days later the afternoon shift was interrupted by the sounds of an argument. Koala tried to scrub the floor and listen as hard as she could at the same time. It sounded like foremen, and angry foremen were dangerous and unpredictable.

"We don't  _need_ another kid!" one yelled. "What the hell were the buyers thinkin'? The one brat's more than enough. We need  _men_ , strong men who can handle heavy lifting!"

"Don't go blaming the buyers for doing their job. There's clearly been a request put in for another child laborer sent from your department," a second man said. His voice was unfamiliar and smooth as butter. "No matter how much you howl, tomorrow there's going to be a boy coming down here for placement."

"How're we supposed to do our job if we can't get the right slaves to do it?" another snarled.

"Relax, Jonas, there's no reason to get upset. Surely if we work together we can find a solution." The smooth-voiced man snapped his fingers. "I know, how about a trade? One of my strong men for your girl. Then when the boy comes you'll have a place for him and everybody's happy."

"Happy?!" the first foreman exclaimed. "I just got this one trained, and you wanna take her away? How 'bout  _you_ take the boy? How's that sound, Wolfe?"

"I would love to, but I'm afraid that's impossible. The paperwork's all in on the incoming bundle of slaves. You know how testy the higher-ups get when you try to change things after it's made all official-like." There was a pause. "So, do we have a deal or not?"

"Fine. _Fine!_ Just take the kid and get out of my sight. If I find out who put in for another kid I'll slit their throat myself."

Koala redoubled her efforts as footsteps come her way, not daring to stop even as she scrapped her knuckles against the cement floor. A pair of shiny black shoes entered the edge of her vision, and the smooth voice told her to stop. She did as she was told, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Stand up," the man said.

Koala stood, risking a glance before settling her gaze firmly on her feet. He was a handsome man in a nice suit, tall, with dark, slicked back hair and a roguish smile.

"Hmm, you're a tiny little thing, aren't you?" he said. "My name is Wolfe, head manager of the kitchens. You're coming with me."

"Yes, sir," Koala said.

Wolfe crossed the distance between them in two steps and struck her across the face. Koala was not expecting the blow and fell to the ground, knocking over the bucket of sudsy water.

"I don't think I gave you permission to speak, slave," Wolfe said in that same smooth voice. "I won't tolerate such disrespect in my kitchens. Now get up. There's work that needs done."

* * *

It was in the middle of the after-lunch cleanup when they made it to the kitchens. Cookware and dishes of every variety sat in huge industrial sinks while slaves in white aprons and chef hats cleaned up their cooking stations. When Wolfe entered all conversation came to an abrupt halt as he surveyed the room.

Apparently satisfied, he nodded once and continued walking with Koala trailing close behind. She felt small and dirty compared to the pristine order of the kitchens. After working so long in near-total darkness Koala's skin was pale and sallow and filty. Her eyes smarted against the bright lights. Even the noise was different without the groans of half-dying men permeating the background. Koala allowed herself a smile--a  _real_ smile at the joy of being rescued from the hellish depths of the basement. Already she felt lighter. Since seeing the little boy die Koala had suffered terrible night terrors full of darkness and blood and horror. But this place...it was bright! There were no whips. No one seemed to be shouting at all, and best of all she would be with Iris again. 

They entered a second cooking area where six slaves were kneading bread. When Koala saw Iris among them her smile only grew. It had been so long since she'd been happy. It was exhausting to pretend day after day, but now she didn't have to. Now she was with Iris and everything would be okay.

"Slave, come here," Wolfe commanded. Somehow they all knew he was talking to Iris, and she stopped her work and came to attention. A few strands of hair had escaped from her braid and sweat beaded her forehead, but otherwise she looked well. Sharp green eyes examined Koala and stared at where she had been struck. A tiny crease formed on Iris's forehead, causing guilt and shame to curl around Koala's insides.

"This is the new addition to our team. You have shown yourself to be a capable and diligent worker, and I am putting her under your care. Train her well. Her errors will be considered your errors, and her success your success. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Iris said quietly.

Wolfe smirked. Reaching over he cupped her face in a surprisingly tender gesture. "We have a deal," he said, voice low enough that none of the other slaves could hear. "I got you the brat. Don't forget what's owed in return."

Iris's stared straight ahead. "Yes, sir."

"That's my girl," Wolfe said. "Now get to work."

As he left, Iris clenched and uncleanched her fists while maintaining a tight-lipped smile. Sensing that something was very wrong, Koala reached up and grabbed her hand. "I'll work as hard as I can, I promise."

"I know you will," Iris said. She turned to face Koala, and held Koala's hand with both of hers. "Things are different here. You must always do as you're told and never complain."

"I know," Koala said.

"There are times when the Celestial Dragons come here, and you must always be ready. I can't protect you from them." Iris blinked very rapidly like she was about to cry. Koala couldn't stand to see her so upset, so she looked at her hands instead. Even covered in flour and bread dough they were warm and kind, just like Koala remembered her mother's to be. Koala could never, ever imagine Iris striking someone with these hands.

But there was something missing. The twine wedding ring was gone. Koala opened her mouth to ask about it, but was cut off by a sharp shake of the head.

"There can be no pride here, Koala," Iris said, her voice hollow. "Whoever you were outside these walls is dead, and can never be again."

The way she said it made Koala think Iris wasn't talking to her. There was a sadness in her voice that Koala had never heard before. All of Iris's strength and confidence was gone, leaving only empty sorrow in its place. Koala's stomach clenched uneasily, but she forced a strained grin while nodding her understanding. She was with Iris and away from the basement and the brutish monsters who lived there. It the best situation she could imagine, and Koala was determined be happy enough for the both of them.


	5. The Cost of Disobedience

The world of the kitchens was entirely different from the horrid depths of the basement. For one thing, there was light. At first Koala took it for granted that this was a good thing -- she could see what she and others were doing, after all. There were no terrible monsters lurking in dark corners waiting for her to make the tiniest mistake. The light, along with the general atmosphere of cooking that reminded her of home, lulled Koala into a false sense of security. 

Under Iris's guidance she quickly learned that the light also meant there was no place to hide. Everything she did was exposed for everyone to see. The rule against unhappiness, largely ignored in the abyss of tunnels just beneath their feet, were strictly enforced by Wolfe and the men in his employ. No one wanted to risk being caught unawares by the Celestial Dragons.

Koala was much too small to help cook, so her days in the kitchen were spent scrubbing, washing, and cleaning whatever she was told to scrub, wash, and clean. It was hard work for a girl who was not yet six years old, but she always did her best, even when her back ached and her hands bled and she was so exhausted she could hardly move.

But the hardest thing about working in the kitchen was always being surrounded by food without being allowed to eat any of it. The Celestial Dragons only consumed the highest cuisine, and their chefs were the best money could buy. They didn't allow their slaves to eat from their table for the same reason Koala's mother forbid her from giving table scraps to the family dog. 

After every meal Koala would throw perfectly good food in the trash while eating bread and a small variety of simple yet hearty meals provided for the slaves. It was enough to keep their strength up but never to satisfy. Gnawing pains in her abdomen kept Koala up at night and sapped her strength during the day. She would gaze longingly at pots full of simmering sauces and masterpieces made of spun sugar while her stomach grumbled loud enough to be heard on the other side of Mariejois. The smell would make her salivate almost uncontrollably. Her nightmares shifted from dark demons and dead little boys to forever chasing after plates overflowing with food that would melt in her fingers as soon as she touched it.

Iris did what she could, but even she was incapable of soothing the hunger pains.

It was too much. She was scraping plates of half-finished delicacies into the trash when temptation overwhelmed her. Without thinking, Koala took a nearly whole drumstick and stuck it in the waistband of her pants. Immediately she paused, waiting for someone to ask what in the world she was doing. Nothing happened. Iris was out in the dining hall cleaning tables, Wolfe was nowhere to be seen, and everyone else was too busy to pay her any attention.

The giddy sense of relief was cut short by a crushing wave of guilt and anxiety that her deception would not last long. Koala's shirt was baggy enough to hide they mysterious bump in her pants, but any sudden movement might dislodge the drumstick. Her stomach rolled in on itself, her instincts  _screaming_ at her to eat.

But she couldn't, not with so many people around. Koala's eyes darted back and forth looking for an opening. Her gaze settled on the pantry where the dry goods were stored. A lump formed in her throat at the thought of leaving her work unfinished.

But then her stomach reminded her the reason for her duplicity, and Koala gathered the courage to leave her station. She was risking a beating or worse, but she was so  _hungry_ , and the meat looked so good…

Koala managed to slip into the pantry unnoticed. She rushed to a corner and savagely tore into the chicken, juice dribbling down her chin. Her lips smacked together loudly as she inhaled the drumstick, but she didn't care about the noise. It was  _food_ , delicious and tender, and she wondered why she hadn't thought to try it sooner.

"What's this?"

Koala froze mid-bite as Wolfe stared at her through hooded eyes, taking in the evidence of her disobedience.

"Give it here, slave," he commanded, voice strangely calm. Koala shuffled forward, acutely aware of the grease staining her clothes and hands. Feeling small and dirty, she handed Wolfe the chicken bone and waited for him to hit her.

The blows never came. Instead he told her to get back to work, an order that Koala was all too happy to obey, only for Iris to be waiting for her at her station.

"Koala, what's wrong?" Iris whispered. "Where were you?"

Koala shook her head, twisted, ugly shame rising within her. Iris would be angry at her for disobeying. She remembered Wolfe's words on her first day in the kitchen. She was sure Iris would be punished for her actions.

"Koala." Iris's tone was gentle, but underlined with steel. It was the voice Koala's mother used when she was in trouble, and the girl cringed.

"I did something bad," she said. "I-I didn't mean too, but I was hungry! I...I took some. Wolfe saw, and now I'm in trouble." Koala hung her head. "I'm sorry."

Iris's eyes widened and the color left her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," Koala repeated, her voice tiny.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, but he saw."

"Okay." Iris nodded to herself. "Okay, I can work with this. Maybe I can…" her voice trailed off, and she looked at Koala intently, hands gripping her shoulders so tight that it hurt. "I know you're sorry. I'm not angry with you, I promise, but you mustn't disobey again. Wolfe may not feel so generous a second time."

Koala nodded miserably, feeling like she was two inches tall and about ready to be stomped on.

* * *

It didn't surprise Koala when she was denied breakfast the next day, nor when she was passed over for lunch and dinner. Wolfe watched her incessantly, berating her for every tiny mistake and working her into the ground, adding additional chores to her already impossible workload whenever she displeased him. That night she could barely crawl into her cot, and not even the hollow ache in her stomach could keep her awake.

Iris watched, too, but she didn't say a word. She couldn't, not unless she wanted to get in trouble as well.

When she wasn't served breakfast the day after that Koala nearly burst into tears. Her hands were red and raw from scouring the floor with scalding hot water, and she hardly had the strength to hold onto a rag, let alone polish anything with it. But Wolfe didn't allow her any reprieve. Between meals he had her cleaning ovens with a chemical that made her eyes burn, and sent her to scrubbing soot marks off of the fireplaces the moment she finished.

On the third day without food Koala began to run a fever. Her mind felt foggy and her heart thundered in her chest. Twice Wolfe hit her for being too slow, but she hardly felt it. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other while keeping the smile on her face. Darkness crowded on the edge of her consciousness, and Koala knew if she let it overcome her she would never escape it.

At that moment, she wouldn't have minded.

When supper rolled around a slave handed Koala a bowl of soup. She looked at Wolfe, who only smiled coldly. "Well hurry up and eat it. If you're not hungry I'm sure someone else will take your share."

Koala didn't need to be told twice. Ignoring her spoon, she brought the bowl to her mouth. The first drops of the steaming liquid hit her tongue when it was torn from her grasp.

The bowl clattered to the ground. A whimper escaped from Koala's throat as she looked up at Wolfe. The foreman loomed over her, his arm still outstretched from smacking the life-giving food away. Cruel malice danced in his eyes, and his smile widened.

"I told you to eat, slave. Are you going to disobey me?"

Koala looked at the soup that spread slowly on the floor that she worked so hard to clean, then to where Iris was standing statue-still, her green eyes boring into the foreman. Dropping to her knees, Koala uselessly tried to scoop it into her hands. Wolfe only laughed.

"No, no, no! You're doing it all wrong!" He grabbed her by the nape of the neck and rubbed her face in the soup like she was a puppy who had been caught making a mess in the house. "See, isn't that easier?"

Koala panicked as broth went up her nose, flailing against a grip as strong as iron. It was useless, of course, and after Wolfe released her, she coughed and coughed until she didn't have the breath to cough any more.

"Do you understand why this is happening to you?" Wolfe asked once Koala had gotten herself back under control.

"Yes, sir," she wheezed.

"Was it worth tasting the food of the gods?"

"No, sir."

"I'm glad we've come to an understanding. Now  _eat_ , before I lose my patience," he commanded.

Ignoring the pit in her stomach, Koala lowered herself to her hands and knees. Slowly she bent her head down and lapped up the soup like the dog she was. The need to eat was stronger than any degradation or humiliation, even though it seemed like every eye in the kitchen was on her.

A moment later Wolfe crouched down beside her. "Lick up every drop, slave, with a smile on your face. Be grateful that there's someone who actually cares enough to keep your useless hide intact. But I'm warning you, if I catch even the  _whiff_ of disobedience from you again I'll tear your stomach out through your nose. Brats like you are a belli a dozen. Don't ever think that I won't replace you the moment it becomes covenant, because I won't hesitate. Do you understand?"

Koala squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to pretend to be happy. It was at that moment she realized she had underestimated the safety the kitchens provided. The light of the surface did nothing but bring attention to her every failing. There might not be the deadly machinery and foremen with whips, but there  _was_ Wolfe, and he was just as dangerous as any of the monsters that lived in the basement.

Koala's smile wobbled, then threatened to break. She knew deep in the core of her being that Wolfe was not lying and was terrified of what would happen if she ever displeased him again. That terror somehow kept the tears from spilling out of the corner of her eyes, and she managed the two most important words of her vocabulary.

"Yes, sir."


	6. Above the Rules

From then on Koala devoted herself to her work. She knew that given half a chance Wolfe would kill her dead. There was the way he sneered at her when Iris wasn't looking, the instructions barked irritably in her general direction, how he reacted with a heavy hand at her slightest mistake. Koala was small, limited in the tasks she could preform. Wolfe made no secret that the resources he wasted on her would be better spent on a skilled laborer.

Koala and Iris both were desperate not to give him any reason to hate her more than he already did. Koala knew instinctively, in the way children often did, how to avoid the worst of his temper. As time passed she learned how to tell a good smirk from bad (there was a tightness around the corner of his lips whenever he was angry) and the difference between a forgiving mood and a dangerous one (there was always a spark in his eyes just before he struck, just like a wild animal).

There was even once Koala thought he looked afraid, and that was when another one of the foremen mentioned the Celestial Dragons. It was gone so quickly Koala thought she imagined it, but subconsciously she tucked the information away in the back of her mind. Anything that could frighten Wolfe was something Koala was eager to avoid. When she mentioned this to Iris, the older woman gripped Koala's shoulders so tight they hurt and made her promise never to cross one of the Celestial Dragons. 

Koala did, but she didn't understand. She had been a slave for months and had never seen one. Wolfe and the monsters of the basement were the only boogeymen she could imagine being frightened of. That was enough.

One innocuous Saturday afternoon changed everything. She remembered because Wolfe had set her to washing dishes after finishing her weekly chore of polishing the silver. The mountain of cookware that piled up between the noon and evening meals seemed insurmountable, and she trudged wearily to the large industrial sinks just as a slave burst into the kitchen. He gasped for breath, his face pale and his eyes wide as he shouted, 

"Everyone get ready! The Dragons are coming!"

It sounded like a battle cry from a fairy tale, but the words could not have had more effect if there was an impending attack by a mythological creature. Pots and pans were put away, the materials being prepped for the supper meal thrown haphazardly wherever they could fit. Each slave stood at rigid attention next to their stations. Utterly bewildered, Koala barely had time to put the stool she stood on in the cupboard under the sink when as the World Nobles walked through the door.

There were three of them, two adults and a child. Saint Demos and his wife Saint Kalma looked like someone's grandparents dressed in giant marshmallow suits. They both had bright eyes and rosy cheeks to match cheerful smiles that never wavered. They were accompanied by a chubby boy who slouched sullenly. He was dressed in the same bulky white clothes, but Koala didn't recognize him.

"Ah, my precious slaves!" Demos said delightedly, clasping his hands together in front of him. "How good it is to see you today!"

Wolfe stepped forward and bowed deeply at the waist. "My apologies, Saint Demos. I wasn't expecting the pleasure of your presence this afternoon, or I would have prepared something for you."

"Oh, that's no worry. This is a mere social call," the Dragon said. His eyes swept up and down the line of slaves, searching. "I must ask, which one of my wonderful chefs prepared the onion soup today?"

One of the cooks came forward. "I-It was me, m'lord. I made the soup."

Saint Demos's smile widened. "Ah, it's one of my favorite dishes. Did you know that, slave?"

"N-No, m'lord, I didn't," the cook said. It was an absurd lie. There was no one in the world who would dare to cook for the Celestial Dragons without knowing what food they did and did not like. "Did…did you find it satisfactory?"

"Oh, it was delicious, some of the best I've ever eaten. Don't you agree, Kally?" Saint Demos said, turning to his wife.

"Quite good," she agreed.

The cook relaxed, and relief coursed through his whole being.

"However, my grandson Keres simply cannot stand onions," Saint Demos said, shaking his head sadly. "The poor boy came to give his Papa and Nana a surprise visit, only to be served something totally inedible. What do you have to say to that, slave?"

The Dragon's pleasant demeanor never faltered, but the silence that fell over the kitchen was deafening.

"I-I didn't know," the cook stammered. "I swear, I-I didn't know. Please, forgive me!"

Saint Demos pulled a gun out of his bulky clothes and shot the cook in the stomach. Koala flinched at the noise, and the man slumped to the ground. No one moved as the slave continued to beg for forgiveness, for mercy, for a second chance, swearing to God that he would do better if he just had another chance…

It was painful to listen the slave bleed out, his voice growing weaker and weaker until he finally fell silent. Saint Demos tucked his gun back into the folds of his suit and let out a contented sigh. He turned to Wolfe, eyes glittering with mirth. "Well, now that that's finished, show me around your venues. It's been too long since my last visit."

Wolfe bowed, complexion turning a delicate shade of green. "Of course, it would be my pleasure."

The foreman's voice was smooth as butter as he lead the tour, but Koala could tell he was babbling on just to fill the terrible silence. Saints Demos and Kalma listened politely as they approached where Koala was standing. They did not notice Saint Keres lean onto a counter to examine a block of knives.

"Oh, look at this one," Saint Kalma exclaimed. "It's so little! Is it a dwarf?"

Koala looked to Wolfe for direction as the Dragon cooed over her. He gave a barely perceptible shake of the head, and Iris - just outside of the Dragon's vision - brought her fingers to the corners of her mouth and pulled them upward, reminding Koala to smile.

"It's no dwarf, my lady, only a human child," Wolfe said. "Though a bit on the runty side, I admit."

"Phooey," she said, sticking out her lower lip. "I've always wanted a dwarf. Haven't I always said I wanted a dwarf, Snookums?"

"Perhaps at the next auction, dear," Saint Demos said.

" _Hardly_. The quality of the sales these days makes it barely worth going! Why, Saint Balan said there hasn't been a mermaid in  _ages_."

Saint Keres sauntered back to his grandparents. He looked at Koala, face screwed in concentration, then at the long filet knife in his hands.

"No, what we should do his hire our own hunter," Saint Kalma continued. "Eliminate the middleman, and get ourselves a whole collection of dwarves! It would be adorable!"

A sharp pain in Koala's arm drowned out the rest of the conversation. Confused, she looked down and saw a bright red stain spreading across the sleeve of her shirt. The cut wasn't deep, but it  _hurt_ , and she could barely keep the smile on her face.

When Saint Keres saw her reaction he giggled. After a moment he raised the blood-stained knife very deliberately stabbed her a second time, this time in her side.

Koala gasped as Saint Kalma slapped his hand away, pushing the knife in deeper before it clattered to the ground. "Don't touch the slaves, Keres! You don't know where it's been. It might be...I don't know... _diseased_."

The Dragons walked onward as they scolded their grandson, leaving Koala to tend to herself. Iris fidgeted anxiously, but she couldn't do anything to aid Koala until the Dragons were gone. Koala pressed her her against her side to stem the bleeding, and nearly threw up as fingers stained a deep red. The room started to spin, and she leaned against the counter.

_Smile. Keep smiling. Never stop smiling or you're dead. I don't want to die. Don't kill me. I'll be good, I promise. I'll work as hard as I can as long as I can, just, please, don't kill me._

_Please._

Koala's knees buckled and she hooked her free arm around the sink to keep from falling. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she kept on smiling. If she could just hold on a little longer, then maybe she had a chance…

After what seemed like an eternity the three Dragons left. There was a collective sigh of relief, none greater than Wolfe's. He adjusted his tie as he addressed his staff.

"Well, that could have been worse. Clean this mess up and get started with supper. And for God's sake, no onions this time!" He glanced at Koala. "Someone get her to the infirmary. I expect her to be back before the rush."

Strong arms picked Koala up effortlessly, and the Iris carried her out of the kitchen. "I am so sorry," she whispered. "Just hold on. I'll get you taken care of."

"I want my mom," Koala gasped, tears streaking down her face. Her side and her arm hurt so badly, and she felt dizzy and weak. She was going to die just like that cook had just died, and no one would care because she was just a useless slave.

"I know you do, baby. I know," Iris said. Koala hiccuped and buried her head into the older woman's shirt.

"I wanna go home."

"And I wish I could take you there," Iris said, her voice cracking. A sharp medicinal smell assaulted Koala's nose as they entered the infirmary. She was laid on a cot and someone lifted up her shirt.

"What happened here?" the slave in charge asked as he prodded the wound.

"Dragons," Iris explained.

"Ah, well, I hope you learned your lesson," he said. "Tweak a Dragon's tail at your own risk. You're lucky you're not dead."

Koala wanted to argue that she  _hadn't_ tweaked anyone's tail, but bit back the words. He was right; she had somehow made a mistake and provoked Saint Keres. She would have to be better.

The only problem was she had no idea what that mistake was, and she suspected that all the rules in the world could not save her from the insanity of the Celestial Dragons.


	7. Smiling Through the Tears

Koala's wounds healed, leaving her with a shiny pink scar on her side, and with it came a new fear for the Celestial Dragons. Wolfe, violent and terrible as he was, could be placated by following the slave's stringent code of conduct. The nobles were unpredictable. Every time Koala saw their bulky white suits her smile would turn so brittle she thought it would break. 

But Koala recovered from the Celestial Dragon's surprise visit to the kitchens. She wasn't so sure the same could be said for Iris.

"How many packages do you see?" Iris asked.

Koala scanned the shelves of the freezer. "Twenty-two."

Iris quickly double-checked her work and nodded. "Very good. Your counting is coming along well."

Koala's cold cheeks flushed with pleasure. Before being captured Koala's mother had taught her her ABCs and her numbers, and now Iris was taking the time to build on that foundation. An educated slave was a valuable slave, and even rudimentary skills in reading and figuring could help Koala get a better placement when she was older.

These lessons were done in secret. An educated slave was also a  _dangerous_ slave, and the others already disapproved of how much time Iris spent with Koala. There was no telling what they would do if they found out the truth.

"Okay, what does this say?" Iris said, pointing to a cardboard box.

"K-Ke-P…Keep?"

"Yes. Now the second word."

"Fr-Fro-Fro-Z-N…Frozen. Keep frozen." Koala looked up expectantly at Iris.

The older woman patted Koala on the head, but the gesture lacked any real enthusiasm. "Good. Now let's get out of here and fill out the inventory sheet."

Koala nodded, but she couldn't help but be a little disappointed. Since Koala's run-in with the Celestial Dragons, the smile Iris presented while working barely qualified as a smile, and there were dark shadows under her eyes like she wasn't sleeping well. As the weeks passed, Iris became detached and distant. Always warm, always kind, but not engaged with the world around her.

They opened a door that led to the dry goods pantry, only to nearly run into Wolfe. He waved off their stammered apologies. "I was looking for you two anyway. The shipment's come in a day early. The boys are getting ready to deliver the goods in as well speak. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but it's going to throw off your inventory."

He didn't sound sorry at all, but Iris nodded respectfully. "Thank you for letting us know."

Wolfe's laughed and wrapped his hand around Iris's waist, rubbing his hand up and down her thigh in an intimate gesture Koala had only ever see her father do to her mother in the privacy of their home. Iris stiffened. "Not now," she hissed. "Not in front of—"

"Don't tell me what to do, slave," Wolfe said, smooth voice low and dangerous. Iris didn't respond, and his smirk exposed white teeth. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "That's what I thought."

Fire blazed in her brilliant green eyes, and Iris twisted away from the foreman and slapped him on the face. For a brief moment Koala was certain she could  _feel_ her hatred for him radiating off her in waves.

It was over almost before it began. Time seemed to stop as they all tried to process what in the world just happened. Iris stared at her hand, face ashen, as she realized the gravity of her mistake. She took a small step back, hitting the door to the freezer.

For a moment Wolfe was too stunned to move. He touched his face gingerly, a scowl marring his handsome features.

"I'm sorry," Iris whispered. "I didn't mean—"

Wolfe struck out blindingly fast, his fist smashing against her jaw. Iris crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap, groaning as the foreman towered over her.

"I have been more than kind, slave," he said, slowly taking off his belt as he spoke. "I don't even mind if you like to play hard to get. But we had a deal, and you've forgotten your place."

Fear kept Koala rooted in place as Wolfe brought his belt down buckle first against Iris's prone body. Again and again he whipped her until her strangled cries turned into broken sobs and crimson blood stained the thin material of her shirt.

It seemed like eternity until the blows slowed and eventually stopped. Wolfe finished with a savage kick to the ribs. Then he turned to Koala, breathing heavily. "You best run along, girl. The adults need to have a one-to-one chat."

"B-but…" A bestial glare cut through Koala's protests, and she rushed to get out of the pantry.

Wolfe grabbed her shirt as she tried to pass him. "One last thing. The two of you are getting much too close for my liking. I won't stand for any rebellion on my watch, do you understand?"

"Y-yes, sir!" Koala stammered.

"Good. Then you'll understand when I say that if I see the two of you talking to each other again, I'll kill you both. You've coddled the runt enough. It's time she earns her keep."

He stared coldly at Iris as tears welled in her eyes. Koala did not understand what was going on, but she recognized an order when she heard it. Wolfe let go of Koala's shirt and pushed her to the door.

Somehow Koala managed to stumble to the kitchen. The delivery men were waiting, each holding boxes of goods that needed to be stored. A burly man looked down at Koala with irritation. "What the hell is going on in there?"

A piercing scream sounded from the pantry before Koala could answer, and she looked up at him helplessly.

"Damn, he hasn't gotten that mad in a long time," a cook said.

"It's what she gets for making a deal with the devil," another muttered.

The burly man rubbed his neck and sighed. "Well, boys, we better find another place for this stuff. I don't think we're getting in there for awhile."

There were grumbles of agreement, and work resumed. Every once in a while someone would glance at the pantry door, but otherwise it was business as usual. Someone shoved a bucket of water and a brush in Koala's hands and told her to scrub the floor while another reminded her to smile, and by the time Wolfe exited the pantry it was as if nothing had even happened.

He scanned the kitchen as he adjusted his pants. Apparently satisfied, he nodded once and left without saying a word.

* * *

There was always a lull in the kitchens after the Celestial Dragons had been served the last course of their meal, and that night during supper Koala took advantage of it to go to the infirmary where Iris was being tended to. Despite Wolfe's warning, Koala couldn't stand not knowing whether or not Iris was going to be okay. By the time Wolfe was done with her, she was barely conscious and unable to walk under her own power, the memory of her bruised and bloody form enough to twist Koala's stomach into knots.

The truth was starting to become clear, and Koala knew what had happened was all her fault. Iris had only entered her mysterious deal with Wolfe to get Koala out of the basement, and she only did that because Koala selfishly said she wished they could be together. If Koala had been good, if she had just kept her mouth shut and done as she was told, Iris would not be hurt.

The infirmary was a small room with no windows and barely enough candles to see by. Only the worst of the worst injured dared come here, and many times they did not come back. After being stabbed Koala had promised herself that she would never step inside those doors again. Only the thought of Iris was enough for her to break that vow.

On this particular evening there were only four slaves occupying the dozen cots, including the one in charge of treatments. He was passed out with a bottle of whisky in his hands, oblivious to the world. Koala was able to find Iris quickly and rushed to her side. The older woman appeared to be unconscious. She had not been changed out of her bloodied clothes and because of the wounds on her back had been laid on her stomach. The deep lacerations continued to ooze dark red blood. The only thing that seemed to be treated at all was her head, which was wrapped up in white bandages stained red from a blow to the back of the head.

Something broke within Koala, and all the tears she had been able to keep penned up till now began to fall. This was her fault. It was  _all_ her fault, and now they weren't even allowed to talk to one another. The tears fell harder as Koala realized what a wretched, spoilt child she was. She  _deserved_  this. Kind, patient Iris did not.

A hand brushed the hair out of her face. "Don't cry."

Koala's eyes sprung open. "Iris?" she whispered.

"Shh. Are you hurt?" Iris's eyes were dull and her voice weak, but even though she had to be in incredible pain, she managed a small smile.

"N-no, but Iris—"

"Hush, baby girl. You shouldn't be here. If he finds you…"

Koala sniffed piteously. "No one saw me. I-I'll be okay."

Cool fingers wiped the tears from her eyes. "Of course you will. You're the strongest, bravest child I've ever met. You'll...you'll survive."

Something wet fell onto fell down Iris's cheek as she held to Koala's hand as hard as she could. "You're crying," Koala said quietly. "Y-you're crying and you're sad, and n-nothing I can do can make you happy."

"That's not true, baby girl. Watching over you is the only thing that's made me happy since coming to this hell. Now he's taken that away, just like he took everything else away." Iris released her and let her hand fall to the ground. "I'm sorry I couldn't be strong for you, Koala. Go back before he misses you. Smile big enough that he never suspects where you've been. Maybe…maybe someday we can meet again."

Koala wanted nothing more to stay right where she was. She wanted to know where Iris was going and beg to be taken with her. And as Iris closed her eyes for the final time, Koala wanted desperately to promise that she would be good forever and ever, if only they could stay together.

But that was against the rules, and Koala left the infirmary with a smile on her face, not realizing that the woman she loved like her own mother was dead.


	8. Epilogue: Breaking Free

Koala woke up to the smell of smoke. In her mind's eye she saw the tall, skinny man reaching towards her, red-hot brand in hand. Whimpering, she curled in on herself before she remembered to smile. She had seen people die for not smiling. Koala didn't want to die. 

A few seconds after she noticed the smoke an alarm sounded. Koala bolted out of her cot and covered her ears as the klaxon sounded, Around her other slaves cursed and rubbed their eyes in confusion. This was not the bell that woke them in the morning. It was infinitely louder and seemed to be coming from every direction at once. 

"What's goin' on!" someone demanded. 

"Escape attempt," another shouted over the noise. "Everyone wait for the foremen. There'll be a count."

A murmur of discontent rippled through the slaves. They waited, and the smoke got heavier and the air got hotter. There were no windows in the barracks, no glimpse of the outside world. The doorway was barred at night, so even if they wanted to see what was going on they couldn't. 

Discontent shifted to restlessness as many of the slaves began to cough. Sweat beaded on Koala's forehead and she pulled her shirt up over her nose. 

_BANG!!_

The door exploded inward and more smoke billowed into the room. Koala scrambled backward as a massive, hulking figure hidden in shadow stood at the doorway. They threw something into the middle of the barracks. 

"Those who would escape, run for the docks."

The figure swooped away just as suddenly as they came. There was a moment of petrified silence before the slaves scrambled towards the center of the room where a ring full of brass keys lay on the floor. 

"Give it to me!"

"No me! Ain't staying here to get burnt to a crisp!"

Koala sank back in terror as the slaves surged forward. Escape attempts weren't allowed. She had learned that before ever arriving to Mariejois. She remembered the sick boy with his brains falling out of his head and felt like she was going to puke. If Wolfe saw what was happening he would kill them all. Koala didn't want to die. She was afraid of dying more than anything else in the world. 

"Sweet Mother of God."

The curse cut over the commotion as the rest of the slaves looked to where one of their number was standing in the doorway. The slave stared blankly ahead, unable to say anything more. Slowly Koala inched forward, afraid of what she might see. When she got to the doorway she gasped, bringing her hands over her mouth to cover her horrified expression. 

It wasn't just an escape attempt. 

Mariejois was on fire. 

* * *

Koala ran blindly across the burning landscape of Mariejois. The city was on fire, and smoke burned her eyes. She didn't know where she was going, what was going on, or even what she was supposed to do. She should be in her barracks awaiting orders from her masters, but the barracks was gone, as was the kitchen and the basement and everywhere else she knew, destroyed by the devastating surprise attack.

Koala ran and did not stop, because stopping meant death. In their efforts to stymie the mass breakout foremen had started shooting everyone in their path, whether they were actively trying to escape or not. She had passed the bodies of a dozen slaves already, along with a few men in the dark suits that marked them as foremen.

She had even seen the body of young Saint Keres, eyes bulging in surprise and his throat cut to the bone.

What she was doing went against every rule that had been beaten in her during her time on Mariejois.  _Don't escape. Obey orders. Stay invisible. Avoid the Dragons. Abandon hope. Never fight back._

 _Smile._  

Dozens of horrible images flashing behind her eyes as she imagined what would happen if she were caught. Koala suppressed them, and the violent urge to throw up. She had been a slave for so long that the memory of her mother's loving touch was a distant, fading memory. Iris was dead, and with her Koala's only connection to her life…before. Before all the pain and misery when she had been a person and not a piece of property, never fearing she would be killed for the crime of being unhappy. Her hands were calloused and strong from years of hard labor, and she had learned how to survive.

And inside she was dying, a little more each day.

In the distance someone started to scream. Koala covered her ears and forced herself to keep going forward. Every step she took was a step farther away from the people who wanted to hurt her. She was out of the city now. The man who gave them the keys said to go to the docks, but beyond that she was completely lost. Her home island might as well be on a different planet for all she knew how to get there.

She tripped on an unseen piece of rubble, and a sharp piece of stone cut through her pants and sliced her knee. But she couldn't stop. Koala forced herself to her feet and continued walking. A sign appeared out of the haze, a single word underscored by a giant arrow pointing to the right.

"D-Do-Ks. Docks."

Docks had ships, and ships meant freedom. Tears blurred Koala's vision and emotions she couldn't understand built within her with no place to escape. As Koala limped in the direction the arrow pointed she began to laugh. It started as a broken noise somewhere between a chuckle and a sob, but it grew into uncontrollable hysterics that she couldn't stop, even to breathe.

She wished Iris could be with her now. She wanted the sick little boy and the child of the basement and the cook who made the onion soup to walk beside her on this path. Koala had endured so much since becoming a slave, but now there was hope that refused to be contained.

Someone had broken each and every rule of Mariejois, and because if it Koala was going to be free.

 


End file.
